Winecask
by XxTiernan's Lady LocksleyxX
Summary: Grantaire has spent his entire miserable life rejected by the one he loves most. Sappy and quick R/Enjy oneshot.


_A/N: The idea's been bugging me for a while... so, I decided to actually write it out! _

_... At 2 in the morning. Charming._

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><p>It was a rather entertaining practice, watching and studying Enjolras rather than pay attention to the actual content of the Amis' meetings. A practice Grantaire had taken much interest in. His dearest Apollo was all he could focus on, the real reason he bothered to stop by the Musain for every meeting. He could watch Apollo without shame, study his every feature, every movement.<p>

Sometimes the students would tease him about it. "You've got a fetish for Enjolras," they'd snicker. His reply was always a distant, and occasionally drunken, "There's no harm in it!"

Which, however, there was. Grantaire couldn't stay sober for his life's sake, and it annoyed Enjolras to no end. Every day a glare or scowl would be sent in his direction. "Another brandy?" Apollo would ask. "That's your third today!" Enjolras would scoff, and was generally displeased.

Grantaire loved him nonetheless. In fact, Apollo's distaste for the drunk might possibly have made said drunk love him _more_.

So when Grantaire woke up slumped at the bar of the Musain, alone in the café aside from Enjolras, pouring over a book, he couldn't be happier.

No matter how much Enjolras hated him, Grantaire couldn't help but feel simply euphoric around him. At the moment, his somewhat disheveled blond hair was pulled back with a ribbon. His eyes reflected the dim light that spilled across the room, trailing from the candle on his table. His vest and cravat were askew, and it was clear that the hour was late. He'd been awake for a long time, and Grantaire had been passed out. The thought made him a little sheepish.

Grantaire stood, stretching his arms briefly. Enjolras looked up.

"Still here, winecask?"

So Apollo hadn't even noticed him. Of course.

"I'm here," he muttered. His head was pounding violently, but he didn't care. Never did, in fact.

Enjolras turned back to his book. "There's probably still some coffee behind the bar."

Grantaire nodded obediently, shuffling to the back room and sighing to himself, shaking his head. What was it all for? Why love someone when they could never love you? Why have feelings when they were continually crushed? Why drink coffee when you know you think it's disgusting, and will end up pouring it all out?

Again shaking his head, he abandoned the coffee and strode into the café, approaching Enjolras and folding his hands behind his back. He rocked on his heels for a moment, biting the inside of his lip.

Slowly, Enjolras glanced up. "What now, winecask?"

There were a million things Grantaire could've said. _I love you. I want a hug, just a hug. I wish you would notice my existence every now and then. I want you to actually want me around, and not think I'm a nuisance. I still want a hug. And if I could kiss you, by God, I'd never ask for anything ever again._

"Just wanted some company." Close enough, he figured.

Enjolras gestured to the seat across from his impatiently. Grantaire beamed. He was allowed to sit at the same table as Apollo. Maybe his love wasn't a lost cause after all!

He sat across from the godlike student gladly, still beaming like an idiot long after. Enjolras took note of this. "Something the matter?"

_A lot of things, actually. But don't you worry, Apollo. Not about me. Just relax, read your book, maybe give me a hug… oh, that would be wonderful. Too wonderful. Just sitting here is enough for now…_

Grantaire pursed his lips, rising from the chair. He walked back to the bar, stood there for a moment, then walked back to the table, then back and forth in a dazed, thoughtful manner.

Enjolras sighed irritably, closing his book and standing up. He braced Grantaire's shoulders with both hands, brow furrowed together. "What in the good name of Patria is the matter, winecask?"

Grantaire didn't answer him. Instead, he pressed his lips heavily against Apollo's.

Enjolras shoved him away, eyes blazing. "Ignorant drunk," he muttered distastefully. "You didn't drink the damn coffee, did you?"

Grantaire's face fell. "I didn't need to," he mumbled. His shoulders slumped, and slowly, he began to drag himself across the room, to the door leading out of the Musain.

"R?"

Grantaire's head snapped up. For once that night, he'd been called a decent name. "Yeah?"

"What was bothering you?"

With a sheepish smile, he shook his head. "Nothing you should worry 'bout, Apollo."

"Don't _call_ me that."


End file.
